


Deaton Was Right

by stonecoldsteverogers (youdickbag), youdickbag



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youdickbag/pseuds/stonecoldsteverogers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/youdickbag/pseuds/youdickbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Imagine person A [Scott] discovering a crumpled up paper written by person B [Derek]. The paper is a written confession about person B’s feelings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deaton Was Right

Derek could hear the sigh from inside Deaton's clinic as he pulled into the parking lot, already constructing an adequate defense for why he was here yet  _again_. Instead of going to an actual psychologist (Derek didn't like the idea of telling more people about his personal history; given his rather sketchy record with law enforcement it was probably better to keep some details private or between people who already knew), Derek just came to Deaton for advice. There was no one else he felt would take him seriously and not laugh in his face.

Derek had a problem: he was desperately in love with Scott McCall. 

Well, the problem wasn't that he loved Scott. The problem was that Derek didn't know what to do about it.

Sure, he could tell Scott...or he could just string himself up by the tendons in his forearms, since that'd be less terrifying a prospect. He didn't even know if Scott was looking to be with anyone in that way. Derek didn't doubt that Scott could handle a relationship on top of his Alpha duties - Derek didn't doubt Scott's ability to handle anything the world could throw at him - he just doubted whether or not Scott would want to. 

The young Alpha hadn't really seemed interested in anything intimate or romantic since Allison. Derek had heard rumors of Scott and Stiles being  _involved_ , but Deaton had thankfully been able to put those rumors to rest, even if Derek did have to deal with the palpable weight of Deaton's gentle exasperation with his timid, indirect inquiries. He knew that he depended too much on Deaton for information rather than just going to the source, but...it was too much. _  
_

Derek had been trying to disentangle this knot that a teenager had turned him into for months, but the path to clarity was lined with thorns that moved and bit. Where he wasn't dealing (albeit sporadically) with his history of "not good, stupid, not worthy," he ran into the question of whether or not Scott would even be interested in him if he  _were_ good enough to try. Then there was what Derek knew of Scott's history, combined with the awareness of Scott's responsibilities as the Alpha of Beacon Hills, the way that his entire pack was deeply aware of Scott's every move and thought (because he just  _let them in_ , somehow; he trusted them enough to do that). 

Add to that the question of age difference and whether that would matter to Scott (Derek wouldn't blame him if it did), and the fact that Derek knew that Scott and his friends were looking into going away to college, and Derek was left stranded between desperation for any answer at all and paralyzing fear of knowing the answer, whatever it turned out to be.

All Derek knew is that he loved Scott, and that he wanted him; it had taken him months to get to that point alone, to move past the constant certainty that not only was Scott not interested, Derek wasn't even worth Scott's consideration in the first place. He knew that that was enormous progress, and that Scott was the one who made it possible. Scott was the catalyst of most major changes in Derek's life since the fire, and Derek  _wanted_. He didn't want Scott out of his life. He couldn't have Scott leave, at least not without an answer. _  
_

But he was scared. It was the fear that had kept him stuck in this rut, and it was the fear that Derek could tell Deaton was losing patience with. But Derek didn't know what to do. This wasn't something that he could just get angry at and violently beat until it left him alone. 

"Derek, I'm going to be as blunt as I possibly can," Deaton said, motioning for Derek to sit. "You have two options at this point: tell Scott how you feel, or don't."

"It isn't that I don't want to," Derek replied. "I...I can't."

"You can. You just won't."

"I don't know how."

"Words usually help. Words strung into sentences." Derek glared at him, and Deaton stared coolly back. "It's obvious that you want to tell Scott, Derek. You must want to, otherwise you wouldn't have been coming to me for advice for all this time. You know better than I do whether you're ready to tell him, but I think you are."

Indeed, when Derek thought about it, he knew that he wanted Scott, and he knew that he wanted Scott to know that Derek wanted him. He just didn't know how. And he wanted to know how, because, "I don't want to mess it up and push Scott away."

"You and I both know that Scott never gives up on people entirely unless they give up on him first, and even then, not always. He's certainly never given up on you, not since when you had first met and you were trying to coerce him into taking down your uncle." 

Derek's eyes lowered as he remembered. "Do you think I have a shot?"

"I'm a veterinarian, not a love doctor. Nor am I telepathic. I don't know anything about how Scott feels about you except what I see and what he tells me."

"Then why should I tell him anything at all? What's the point of doing something when there's no guarantee it'll work?"

"That's part of the gamble you take when you deal with love," Deaton responded. "You take the chance, knowing that it might not work out in your favor. But you take it anyway, because you want to."

Derek sat. He chewed his lip, took a couple of breaths. "How do I tell him?"

"If you don't want to say it, perhaps writing it would be a better option."

"You mean like a letter?"

"Yes, like a letter. A letter where you write down everything that you're feeling, everything that you want Scott to know. And then you can either give it to him, or use it to guide your speech if you decide that you want to tell him verbally."

"This seems...cheesy." But Derek was already thinking about what he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it.

"Scott likes cheesy." Which was true. Scott was a sap - he felt too much, said too much, thought too much, cared too much. 

It was one of the things Derek loved most about him.

He was going to write the letter.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

His hands were shaking. He hated feeling this nervous. He gripped the folded sheet of paper in his jacket pocket even more tightly, squared his shoulders, and headed up the walkway to Scott's front door. Just as he was about to knock, the door swung open, and Derek found himself facing a mildly startled Melissa McCall. "Oh, hi Derek. Did you need something?"

"Is Scott here?"

"Always so direct," Melissa muttered, though she must have known that Derek could hear her. "Yeah, he just got back from whatever wolfy business he had to do. He's relaxing right now, and I'm leaving to give him some space."

"Do...do you think he'd mind if I talked to him?"

"Come in, Derek," a voice said from the living room. 

"There's your answer," Melissa said, moving to leave. 

Derek stepped aside to let her pass, and at least had the presence of mind to wish Melissa a good night before entering the house. Shedding his jacket as he walked into the living room, he saw Scott reclining on the couch, feet propped up and arms flung over the back as his head tilted back with his face pointed toward the ceiling. "I don't think your mom would appreciate where you've got your feet," Derek pointed out as he sat in the adjacent armchair. 

"She said she doesn't mind as long as I clean it off," Scott replied, shooting him a soft smile that made Derek's heart clench just slightly. "What's up?"

"You had business to do today?" Derek knew he was avoiding talking about why he was here, and was fairly sure that Scott knew as well, but Scott seemed willing enough to just chat. 

"Yeah, I had to re-establish a few boundaries, lay down the rules yet again for some of the packs that're resting nearby temporarily. Plus, Stiles and Lydia wanted me to quiz them on literally everything they're supposed to know as emissaries."

"Is it normal to have two emissaries?"

Scott rolled his head down and looked straight at Derek. "When have you ever known me to do what's normal?" He had a point. Derek knew as well as anyone that Scott didn't do normal. He did what he thought was right, and somehow found ways to make his will reality. That willpower and conviction only made Derek love Scott more.

He wanted to tell him. He'd come here to tell him. He surreptitiously wiped his palms on the arms of the chair, reminded again of the letter in the pocket of his jacket. "So where did your mother go?"

Scott squinted at him for a moment, then grinned mischievously. "She's allowing Agent McCall to take her out; she likes to lure him under the pretense of actually talking with him and then seeing just how many reminders he can take of how he treated us before he finally just asks for the check and brings her back home. She gets to make him miserable and gets dinner out of it, too."

Derek forced a huff of laughter. "Not a bad deal."

"Nope." Scott moved to sit upright, no longer reclining, and leaned forward. "Derek, is there something you wanted to tell me, or did you just come to check up on me?"

Derek wanted to speak, but his throat locked down and his jaw clenched.  _Just show him the letter_. But he'd have to explain what it was.  _Maybe by the time you give it to him you'll have remembered how to talk_. "Derek?" _  
_

"Are you leaving soon?" Derek bit out. He could tell that Scott was confused by his question, but he didn't say anything else. 

"Uh, no, I don't have any immediate plans to go anywhere. Why, are  _you_ leaving soon?"

Derek clamped down hard on the urge to say something ridiculous like, "I'll go anywhere you want me to." "Derek?"

Derek panicked. He couldn't tell Scott, not now. "I should go. You need to relax, you've had a long day." He stood and headed for the door, only to be stopped by a hand on his forearm. 

"I'd like to relax, but it's hard to do when someone close to me is this agitated."

"Are we close?" Derek asked, turning to face Scott again. 

Scott blinked. "I mean, I'd like to think so. We've known each other a long time. We've been through a lot, and we don't hate each other, right?" 

"No." The reply came too quickly, which made Derek even more nervous even though Scott seemed pleased. 

"Then yes, we're close. And because we're close, I can tell that you're upset about something. Something important, because I know you, and you're never this clammed up unless it's important and you don't know if you should tell me. What is it?"

"It's nothing." He turned to leave again.

" _Derek_." Derek froze; he recognized the currents of power in that tone. "Turn around, please." He did, and saw that Scott's eyes carried the faintest hint of a crimson glow. This was an Alpha, _the_ Alpha,  _Derek's_ Alpha, speaking to him. Derek wanted so badly to just give in, capitulate, tell Scott anything and everything he wanted to know. But he couldn't. His determination had vanished; he was stuck between doing whatever Scott told him to do and running as far away as he could as quickly as he could, and he didn't know which he wanted to do more.

He didn't realize that he was shaking until Scott spoke again, power gone, voice normal. "Derek, Derek hey, calm down, okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I just don't want you to be so upset. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, okay? It's fine, we can just sit, we don't have to talk about anything. Just please calm down?"

Sheer self-discipline and habit learned over years of repressing any emotion he didn't want to deal with allowed Derek to put away his agitation until he stopped shaking, his hands to move steadily as he put his jacket back on. His voice sounded calm when he said, "It's nothing, I promise. I just wanted to see y--how you were doing."

Scott looked doubtful, but Derek could see relief in his eyes now that Derek didn't seem so aggrieved. "Are you sure?"

Apparently, one of the emotions that Derek had put a metaphorical manhole cover over was his nervousness, because he found himself saying, "There is something I wanted to tell you, but it isn't important." _That's a lie_. "I'll tell you some other time." 

"Okay...if you're sure."

"Yeah. Good night, Scott."

"G'night, Derek." 

Derek left, getting into his car and driving away. He knew he'd have to deal with why he'd freaked out so much - and the fact that he hadn't been able to just tell Scott how he felt - at some point, but...he was driving. And it wasn't like he wouldn't have other opportunities.

Comforted, he dropped one of his hands from the steering wheel and stuck it in his jacket pocket. 

His empty jacket pocket. 

"Shit."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Scott knew that Derek was avoiding him. He'd probably be doing the same thing if someone stumbled across a letter full of extremely private and intimate feelings about a person, and the someone who found the letter happened to be the person the feelings were about. Although, since Scott didn't really like to keep secrets (he preferred to be upfront about his feelings), he doubted he'd be in Derek's position in the first place. 

Regardless, Derek apparently had feelings about Scott, if this letter of his was to be believed. Derek apparently had a  _lot_ of feelings about Scott. If this is what he'd wanted to tell Scott about, no wonder he'd been so freaked out. 

He'd stayed up the whole night poring over Derek's letter, taking in every word, every scratch. 

_Scott,_

_I'm writing this because Deaton said it'd be easier than just talking to you outright. Yes, I've been asking the vet's advice, but only because he was the only person I could think of to talk to ~~about the fact that I love you~~. _

_~~Damn it, that was supposed to come later.~~ We're going to pretend that you can't read what's crossed out. Except I don't really know any other way to say it. Crap..._

_Alright, look. I love you, okay? My hand is shaking while I'm writing this ~~because I'm so pathetic~~ , but I do. I love you, and I don't have the slightest fucking clue what to do about it. _

_I'm not expecting you to love me back, or even to have thought about me that way. I know that we're kind of ~~(?)~~ close, but it's hard to find romance when we've spent most of our time arguing or bleeding on each other._

_...That came out wrong. Even in writing, I can't seem to not screw up somehow. We don't fight that much any more, and we're rarely the_ reason _we end up bleeding on each other, which I think is an important distinction. I'm going to stop talking about this now._

_I wish that I could just tell you, but...I can't. I'm... ~~I hate to say this, but~~...I'm scared. Not just nervous, although I'm really stupidly nervous, too. I'm just downright scared._

_...The more I say it in writing, the easier it gets to write. Maybe Deaton was onto something. Anyway._

_I'm scared that you won't feel the same way. Although, I'm not so much scared of that as scared of being proven right that you don't feel the same way. This is so ridiculous, and I haven't even gotten to how you're so damnably perfect that it blows my mind and also convinces me that I'm not anywhere near similar enough to ~~or good enough for~~ you that I'd even show up on your radar._

~~_Plus, there is still the kind of rocky ground we got started on. (Rocky ground, what the hell?) And all of the crap I've put you through while we've known each other. Maybe you've gotten past it, I don't know. If you have, then that's really great, and I'm glad you don't hate me._ ~~

_I'm not going to talk about that any more, either. I...anything else I'm going to say would probably be way more than you care to know about just how screwed up I am over you._

_I love you, Scott McCall. I, Derek Hale, am (and trust me, I hate myself much more than you could ever imagine for saying what I'm about to say) completely over the moon for you. (God, that's awful, I wouldn't be surprised if this made you roll your eyes or laugh this whole thing off.) I...I guess that's it. All of this extra crap is just more words to try and cushion that ~~probably unpleasant impact~~._

_You don't have to say or do anything with this after you read it, if you even do. If I manage to get over myself long enough to give it to you. I just...I wanted you to know._

_~~Love,~~  
Derek_

Scott had gone through a rather wide variety of emotions while reading Derek's masterpiece, alternatively happy, shocked, confused, awkward, and fond. He was self-aware enough to admit that on some level, he'd noticed that he and Derek had had a weird sort of...underlying tension in their relationship once they were finally on the same page and treated each other with respect. It was never an antagonistic sort of tension, it was just...there.

He also knew himself well enough to know that while reading something Derek obviously hadn't been ready for him to read, Scott felt no negative emotions. He didn't feel angry or disgusted; there was no consternation. More importantly, Scott realized - as the sun rose and birds began their obnoxious routines - that he felt one emotion more than any other: curiosity.

He wanted to hear Derek say these things for himself. 

He'd called Derek multiple times in between readings and re-readings of his letter, but they'd all gone to voicemail. They never went immediately, though, which meant that Derek was simply ignoring his phone, rather than instantly hanging up. Knowing Derek (which Scott did), he was probably sitting, watching his phone, caught in indecision every time it went off.

Scott didn't leave any voicemails until the last time he planned to call. When the beep sounded, Scott said, "So, obviously you left your letter here. And, obviously, I read it. And there's something I want to ask you, but I want to ask you, not your voicemail. So now I'm going to wait, until either you answer or the time I have to leave a message cuts off. And if that happens, then I'll have the answer to my question."

The phone didn't pick up. Scott sighed and said, "I know you're there, Derek. I think I'm running out of time to leave a message." He waited a few moments longer, then sighed again. "Fine. I guess I have my answer. Bye, Der--" The phone clicked.

" _What do you want to ask me?_ " Scott smiled. 

"I wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to tell me what's in this letter for yourself. I want to hear you say it."

" _Say what? There's a lot in that letter, and I'm not really that proud of most of it._ "

"Don't be a jerk, Derek."

" _Scott, I've been sitting in a room on a bed since I got here after realizing that letter fell out of my pocket, terrified of what you'd say. That terror, by the way, got worse every time you called._ "

"Then maybe you should've just answered the phone earlier."

" _I'm not going to argue with you about this._ "

"I agree, that seems like a waste of time. You should just tell me you love me, and we can go from there." He could hear Derek take in a sharp breath. "That is the whole point of this, right? You love me."

"... _Yeah_."

"Then say so."

" _I..._ "

"You...?"

" _Could you be any pushier?_ " _  
_

"You love it."

" _Damn it, Scott._ "

"Am I wrong?"

" _..._ _No. I...I love that you're pushy, and that you go after what you want. I love that you're confident in yourself and others, I love that sometimes you seem completely unaware of the fact that the fact that you exist inspires people to be better._ "

"Derek..."

" _Shut up. I'm trying to tell you that I love you, remember?_ " Scott smiled again.

"Well, I need you to hurry up."

" _You keep interrupting. I'm kind of spilling my guts here, without knowing how you feel or if you're just doing this for kicks._ "

"Do you think I'd do that to you, Derek?" Derek's silence was enough of an answer. "That's what I thought. I'm glad that you told me. And I'm gonna be honest, I don't love you in that way." He could sense Derek getting ready to hang up, and hurriedly said, "But that doesn't mean I won't! I mean...I think that maybe I could. If I had the opportunity."

" _What if you don't?_ "

"Well...that's part of the gamble people take in love, isn't it? You've gotta take the chance and just...hope."

Derek was silent for a few moments before saying, " _You spend too much time with Deaton._ "

Scott laughed. "So, I want to take the chance. Do you?"

" _Yes._ "

"Okay, then. Tell me again, one more time."

He heard a sigh, and then Derek said, " _I love you._ "

"The more you say that, the more I like to hear it. And, uh, I...I like you."

" _Thanks._ "

"Not all of us are coming into this ahead of the curve, Derek." That elicited a huff of a chuckle, which Scott took as a good sign. "Oh, and one more thing." Derek hummed, and Scott said, "Over the moon? Really?"

" _Deaton said you liked cheesy._ " Scott could hear the defensiveness, and he could practically see Derek's shoulders hunching, and he laughed. 

"Deaton was right."

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
